


The Illusion of Normal

by Mishapocalyptic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishapocalyptic/pseuds/Mishapocalyptic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Original character) Sam and Dean find a young psychic named Sarah in their hunt for the Colt. She has a premonition that they will all die soon, and Sam is determined to protect her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Illusion of Normal

**Author's Note:**

> This is before the boys know that the yellow-eyed demon's name is Azazel. Just, fyi.

June 6, 2007

I’m normal... Or at least, that’s what I tell people.

My name is Sarah. Sarah Woodruff. I’m 23 years old, and I decided that I’d start this diary so that if I don’t live past this week, you’ll know what happened to me. My mother died in a house fire on my 6 month birthday. My dad didn’t take it well. He tried to keep it together until I was old enough to take care of myself; he didn’t succeed. The doctor put him on anti-depressants when I was 14, and when I was 15, I was sent to live with my aunt.

I went off to college for a teaching degree. Last year, after my graduation, I started having weird nightmares. But that’s just what they were: nightmares. And headaches. The headaches I could handle until recently. They’ve started to coincide with my nightmares. I’ve started getting the nightmares during the day, too. They’ve become increasingly real, almost as if I were watching them happen in real time. I had one, about my mother. About her death.

She was in my nursery, on the day of my 6 month birthday. Don’t ask me how I know that; I just knew that was the day. She was singing to me, when she was thrown back against the wall by an invisible force. She screamed, and I sat, watching. She was dragged up the wall and onto the ceiling, where she started to bleed from the stomach. It dripped on me, and suddenly I was swept up in my father’s arms, him carrying me from the room. The last thing I saw was my mother go up in flames. It was scary, I’ll admit. But there was something scarier than that.

It wasn’t a dream; it was a memory.

A few months ago, these two guys came into the town where I’d been teaching. They were both attractive, but they seemed dangerous. Dean and Sam Winchester. That’s their names. They’re demon hunters. I know you won’t believe me; it really does sound ridiculous. But it’s true. Dean is pretty hot, but the one that gets me is Sam. Sam is cute, like a young boy, but at the same time he’s so much more attractive than Dean because he’s more compassionate. And Sam is like me. The headaches, the nightmares. He told me that I’m psychic.

What the Winchesters didn’t know is that I’d known them. For at least a month. I’d been trying to figure out what exactly I am. Why I’m like this. I understand now. We were intended to make an army, but Sam told me that I’d be okay. I just had to stick with them so they could take care of me. That’s where I am now. But it was a long journey. I’ll tell you how it all started.

I was walking out of the high school were I used to work when I saw them for the first time. I didn’t think much of the Winchesters’ presence, though; we used to have lots of people pass through every day.

I had just resigned from my teaching job. Word was going around that I was gonna be fired because I have chronic headaches. This was a recent development; they’ve come with strange dreams in the middle of the day. Apparently, I was prone to zoning out right before collapsing to the floor in agony. I’d rather resign than be fired.

The Winchesters were climbing up the steps of the public library across the street from my high school, and something clicked. I recognized one of them. The taller one. I had a dream about him. It was weird. He didn’t die, like everybody else in my dreams tended to. I knew I had to meet him. Maybe he could help me.

You see, my dreams usually come true. Two or three days after I have the dream. It terrified me. And I could never do anything because I was never sure if the dream would come true or not. But those were the fatal ones. Sometimes I had dreams about everyday accidents, and those could be changed. They didn’t ever result in death, though; just a ruined shirt or an upset stomach. This one dream was like a nightmare of sorts. This one reeked of death, as if I could smell it, and even though no one had died, I had a feeling death was approaching swiftly for someone.

That fear in mind, I dashed across the street, following the strangers into the library. I tiptoed along, afraid of their impression of me if they knew of my presence. Suddenly, they stopped, and I swiftly turned toward the book shelf on my left, perusing the war strategy books in front of me. The shorter one whispered something to the tall one. I strained my ears to listen, but I couldn’t catch anything. I realised that the taller one’s name was Sam. Sam seemed to cast a worried glance in my direction.

They continued walking, and I paced myself, so it didn’t seem obvious that I was following them. Finally, I gave up. I realised that if I wanted their help, I would have to reveal myself to them.

“Hey,” I said meekly. They turned around, Dean’s face morphing into a smirk. Obviously, they had noticed. Sam’s face lit up with a huge smile, reminding me of a child in a candy store.

“Hi,” Sam greeted. “You’re Sarah, huh?” The forced grin dropped from my face.

“H-How did you know that...?” I stuttered. Sam smiled gently as he approached me.

“The same way that you know my name is Sam.” Dean’s smirk grew.

“What are you grinning about, Cheshire?” I quipped at Dean. Dean shook his head. It seemed that he had heard that one before.

“This is gonna be good, Sarah,” Dean said vaguely. “The name’s Dean, by the way.” I nodded curtly, turning my attention back to Sam.

“You’re having dreams and headaches, aren’t you?” Sam asked me, approaching me cautiously. I tilted my head, amazed at what he already knew. “You wanna know how I know this, don’t you?” He chuckled lightly while I smiled pleadingly. “I had a... well a dream of sorts. It wasn’t like my usual. Usually people die, but... you didn’t. I knew we had to come here to meet up with you.”

“I had a similar dream!” I exclaimed in a whisper-shout. “I had a feeling you could help me. I don’t feel safe since this has started.”

“Good, because you’re coming with us.” Sam grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door and down the front steps to their ’67 Chevy Impala. Dean climbed into the driver’s seat as Sam helped me into the back.

“We need to stop by you house and get some of your stuff to travel with,” Dean announced as he started the car. “You have to travel lightly.” I nodded, but Dean couldn’t see because he was driving.

I directed Dean to my house. I dashed in when the car stopped, and Sam followed me in to help me. I’m not sure why he felt that I needed help; Dean had limited me to one bag already. I didn’t turn him down, though. Sam stood by my bed, holding open the bag as I stuffed my shit into it. As I ran around, making sure I had everything, Sam zipped up my bag. I saw him sling it over his shoulder as he approached me.

“Time to go,” said Sam. “We’ve spent too long as is.” I stayed where I was a moment longer. I would be leaving the one place I called home. Sam gripped my arm and tugged me out of the door. I took my bag from him and climbed in the backseat of the Impala. Dean slammed on the gas, and I turned to gaze at my home. Of course, it really wasn’t my home anymore.

We’ve been driving for 3 days straight, now. We’ve stopped for food, but Dean won’t even stop overnight. Sam and Dean just switch out driving. Clearly this is important. I’m not sure what we’re looking for, but Sam says that if we can kill it, both of us will be safe. I’m skeptical. I fell asleep in the car yesterday and had the strangest dream:

I was standing at a cross roads, watching as Dean was approached by a beautiful woman. Her eyes flashed red. I looked around for Sammy, but he was nowhere. The whole exchange felt devoid of emotion.

I couldn’t hear anything. Dean was talking, but no sound came out. The woman seemed to understand him, though, because she said something that provoked him. He lunged at her before she disappeared. A second later, she was standing on his left. I felt like there was something missing. A presence. Almost as if... Almost as if Sam were dead. As if I were dead, too. 

I panicked and woke up after that, gasping. Dean was driving, and Sam had moved to the back, I guess to keep an eye on me, because he wrapped his arms around me.

“Are you alright?” Sam whispered urgently.

“Yeah... I think so. Just another dream.” I rubbed my eyes. I locked eyes with him, and he scrunched his eyebrows together in concern. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Just go back to sleep,” Sam cooed. He pulled me into his chest and encouraged my head onto his shoulder so that I could sleep.

It looks like we’re finally pulling into a hotel. Thank goodness. I’m tired of sleeping in the car. I think I’ve got a kink in my neck, now.

 

June 7, 2007

Something big is happening. I don’t know what, but it is. Dean is on edge constantly, and Sam hasn’t smiled all day. I guess I should tell you what happened last night.

We arrived at the hotel around midnight, and the first thing Dean wanted to do was go get a drink. He invited me and Sam along, but I turned him down, saying any bed is better than sleeping in a car. Sam said that he wanted to stay and look after me, and Dean winked at me over his shoulder. I found myself blushing, something that hasn’t happened to me since college. Dean bid us ado, and walked out the door. I went and sat on the bed, and Sam came and sat next to me.

“Look, I know we only met three days ago, but I feel some sort of connection to you,” Sam said suddenly. I breathed a sigh of relief; I thought I was the only one who felt it. I smiled up at him, and my breath quickened as he brought his lips closer to mine. Our lips brushed, and next thing I knew, we were tangled up in each other. He kissed me as if we might not live through the next day. That made it better. The urgency... Well, it told me that he wanted me to know his feelings in case something happened to either of us.

I don’t know how long Dean was at the bar, but it didn’t seem long enough. I just wanted to spend the night with Sam, without Dean there as a reminder of the danger we were in.

Sam deepened the kiss, bringing his hands up under my shirt. I gave myself to him. I’d never had sex, but I’m glad Sam was the first. It was as if there was no one else in the world, nor any other cares. It was he and I. 

When we were done, I curled into his side, and we fell asleep in that position.

Dean gave us a look this morning that said “I know what you two did last night,” but other than that, the tension has been so thick, you could cut it with a knife. I’m just really worried. I have a bad feeling in my stomach.

 

***** ***** *****

 

(Narrator’s POV)

Sam’s eyes watered as he read Sarah’s diary. He wished it didn’t have to end this way. He wished that there really was a way he could save her. He’d had a premonition that she was gonna die, but he didn’t know where. He thought that maybe if he took her with them, she would be safe. Obviously not.

The yellow-eyed demon had made it very clear that Sarah wasn’t going to live through the weekend. Sarah didn’t know that Sam had read her diary; she was in the shower at the time. She had cheekily invited him to join her, but he had refused, his signature smile absent from his features.

Later that day, the three of them went to the place that Dean had tracked the demon to be settled at. The yellow-eyed demon was expecting them to show up; Dean and Sam knew that. They withheld the information from Sarah for fear of scaring her. Dean had been optimistic that they could kill the demon before he got to Sarah. They had the Colt, after all. The Colt could kill him. The demon knew this; he had planted it. It wasn’t the real Colt.

Dean parked the Impala about ten feet away from the old plantation. Dean got out and scanned the surroundings. Sam stepped out, and then helped Sarah out. Sam tried to stay calm because he didn’t want Sarah to worry, but Sarah knew that one of them wouldn’t make it out alive. Sam and Sarah shared a sweet kiss before they heard a chuckling from about a yard away.

“Well, well, well,” the yellow-eyed demon laughed. “Isn’t that sweet? How nice to see you, Sarah. Has Sam told you? Only one of you psychics will make it out alive. He’s known it a while, actually. And I have my money on him, but he’s a softie. You’d know, wouldn’t you?” The yellow-eyed demon smirked devilishly. Sarah looked up at Sam, wide-eyed. Sam squeezed his eyes shut to avoid her betrayed look. Dean looked at his brother with worry.

“That’s not true!” Sarah shouted. “We can all live through this!”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, swaggering closer to the yellow-eyed demon. He twirled the gun in his hand. “We’ve got the Colt, you bastard. Give up. Let me send you back to Hell.”

“Hmmm... Tempting offer,” the demon mused. “But, sadly, no. That’s not how it works. Step down, Dean Winchester. You could live. I would spare you. I have no need to dispose of you. I actually could use a strong body like yours for my army. You and Sam could fight for Hell; you could win this war.”

“We’ll never fight for you,” Sam spat. Dean shot the demon, and he fell to the ground. A moment later, however, the yellow-eyed demon stood up.

“Ouch, Dean. I may bruise from that,” the demon joked. “That’s not the real Colt. I planted it, hoping you’d bring her to me. I hate seeing them kill each other. I’d rather get rid of them as I see fit and let the last few fight it out.”

Sarah paled. She knew what he was saying. She spoke up. “If I come quietly, promise me you’ll spare them. Promise me you’ll leave here. Promise...” Her lip quivered, and she looked back at Sam. “Promise that you won’t make them watch.” The demon smiled gently at her, touched by her ignorance. Didn’t she know that wasn’t how he worked?

“Are you kidding me?!” he guffawed. “No! I’ll leave them because I need Sam, and I can convince Dean. But you? You’re disposable.” Sarah started to cry with that. Sam rushed forward, but the demon sent him flying backward toward the Impala. Dean growled and rushed forward, only to be flung back with his brother. The demon forced them into the car and locked the doors.

“NO! No, no, no, no!” Sarah cried. The demon flicked his wrist, and she rose from the ground. He sent a jolt through her body and let her crumple to the ground. She crouched up, holding her stomach. She removed her hands to see them covered with blood. She shrieked with pain, and he jolted her again. Blood began to pour from every pore in her body. She screamed, and Sam pounded his fists against the Impala’s window. The demon laughed with glee at Sam’s pain. Soon, Sarah crumpled over, her body pale white. Her blood was pooled around her and stained her clothes, the ground, and the demon’s shoes. The doors suddenly opened, and Sam hurled himself at the demon. The demon vanished before Sam could make impact. Sam fell to the ground and broke his wrist. He crawled over to where Sarah’s body lay crumpled on the ground. He wept. Dean came over and wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulder. Sam reached around and grabbed Dean’s shirt, burying his face in it. They sat there for hours before standing up. Sam wiped his tears, a determined look on his face.

The two walked to the trunk of the Impala and got out the gasoline, salt, and matches. Dean poured salt on Sarah’s body while Sam covered her in gasoline. Dean let Sam light the match, and watched Sam’s face contort with anguish as Sarah’s body caught fire. They stood there, watching the flames lick at her body, and when the fire went out, they left. As they got in the car again, Dean could see the tears prickling Sam’s eyes. He turned to his brother.

“Sam, there’s nothing I can say to make this better.” Sam looked at him, confusion clear in his features. “But, look. This is what we’ve gotta prevent. We gotta find the real Colt.”

“Wh-what... What are you saying?” Sam asked in a small voice. It was pathetic, and made Dean more sure of his next words.

“We’re gonna make him pay. We’re gonna kill that bastard.”


End file.
